Ache For Me_Romantic Suspense

by Hayden Braeburn

  ~*~

  “You said she came home and parked in her garage. Where is she now?” Brandon was yelling, but he didn't care. “Where the fuck did she go? She's a damn murderer. On the loose. In my city.”

  “Calm the fuck down, Davis,” the Fed, Sloane, was up in his face. “We will find her, and she will never get out of prison.”

  “I will not calm down. She was supposed to be under surveillance. She slipped an FBI tail, killed at least one man, coerced a teenage boy to shoot up a school... Who the hell is this woman?”

  “Not anyone you want to know,” Kavanaugh answered, her tone dark. “This woman is not at all as she seems. What she told Holden Graves is likely to be true, at least partially.”

  “Partially?”

  “Her mother worked at Club Bleu for many years, alongside Leanne Graves. From what we can piece together, Helen Reed had affairs with both Richardson brothers, either at the same time or at least close enough that she didn't know who fathered Abby. Abby is convinced it was Theo, and that she is the rightful heir to the club. Herself and Holden.”

  “But Theo didn't agree?”

  Sloane took over from there. “Not at all. So, she hacked into his bank accounts and moved all the money the club was taking, to other accounts. She always managed to leave just enough for payroll, but nothing else.”

  “So, that's what you people have been doing here? Tracking a hacker?”

  “Anything across state lines is our jurisdiction,” Sloane agreed. “She was moving a lot of money for a couple years. Would've gotten away with it, too. Hell, if she hadn't gotten greedy and started targeting other businesses, we may not have known for a while. Theo Richardson wasn't the one who called us.”

  Kavanaugh broke in then, “We didn't know who she was until very recently, but we suspected she was in Aylesford and Tyler. The hits were too personal, the amounts far from random.”

  He tried and failed to hold in a smirk. “You needed Tiffany to break it open and connect it all for you.”

  “Her help was instrumental, yes.” Sloane looked like he'd swallowed a lemon, but didn't disagree.

  “But we now have this hacking, murdering, tiny ass chick in the wind?”

  “Let's find her tiny, murderous ass,” Kavanaugh agreed.

  His stomach dropped. “Shit. She's in West Virginia. She had someone drive her car as a decoy while she took Camryn Everett.” He punched the wall, not at all upset when he left a dent. “Shit. Fuck.”

  The call to Tiffany was terse. He gave her his theory, issued the standard warnings and stay safes and there wasn't much else he could do from almost two hours away. She was with Delmonico and not surprisingly, Carter Jamieson. He hoped Camryn Everett's chosen safe house was actually safe.

  ~*~

  Camryn was watching Alton Brown explain about asparagus when the doorbell rang, causing her heart to beat faster. Only good guys rang the doorbell, right?

  Phil grabbed his pistol and held out a hand to her. “Wait here, girl. I'll see if it's the people you're expecting.” After crossing to the door, he opened it a crack, not allowing whoever was the door to see her. “May I help you?”

  “Are you Phil Brees?” asked a female voice.

  “Who wants to know?” Phil replied, almost making Camryn laugh.

  “Officer Tiffany Morgan, Tyler PD.”

  “Badge?”

  She assumed Tiffany showed her badge to Phil because the next thing she knew the woman was inside. She had so much she wanted to ask and say, but the only thing that came out was, “Where's Carter?”

  Tiffany studied her for a second. “In the car. We think your kidnapper is still around and we don't want to bring any more attention than we already have.”

  “Please tell me I didn't endanger Phil by asking for help.”

  “I told you, girl, I take care of my own.”

  “Honestly,” Tiffany replied, splitting her gaze between Cam and Phil, “we don't know. To be fair, I got a call warning me that your kidnapper might be around. I can't tell you much, and I don't know if you were seen when you escaped—great job on that, by the way—but we need to get moving.”

  “Can you tell me who? Why?”

  The blonde shook her head. “Quit asking questions, Cam, and get in the car. We have a long drive ahead of us, and we just want to get you home.”

  “I can't leave Phil here, can't worry that something will happen to him because of me.”

  “Girl,” Phil started.

  “No. There is no way your kindness should cause pain. Come with us.”

  He looked at her like she'd grown another head for a moment, but nodded his own after a long beat. “If it means that much to you.”

  “I could never live with myself if I brought you harm.”

  He eyed Tiffany. “I'm bringing my gun, ma'am.”

  “You have a permit?”

  “Course.”

  “Then let's get out of here. Now.”

  ~*~

  When Camryn walked out of the house with Tiffany and a man he assumed was Phil Brees, Carter finally felt like he could breathe again. She was whole. Chris kept him from running into the street to grab her, reminding him that the faster they all piled into the vehicle, the faster they could get the hell out of there. Seconds seemed like days as he waited for the trio to lock the house and settle in. As soon as she was near enough, he pulled her into his arms, locking her next to him. “I'm never letting you out of my sight again.”

  She kissed him, unworried about the audience. “I should have listened to you. I thought I was safe, but my water must've been drugged. I finished with Tabi and Holden—he's got more issues than I ever thought—and drank a bottle of water... and then, well, I woke up in a trunk.”

  He wished he could get a better hold of her, but she was with him, and she was safe. “Your mom said you kicked through a seat.”

  “Thank goodness for heels, right?” She gave him a small smile, trying to make light of the situation. “I couldn't get out any other way, and I wasn't staying in there.” She looked over at Phil. “I walked a long time before I finally rang Phil's doorbell. Thank god he took me in.”

  He nodded at the older man. “Thank you so much, sir. I don't know how to repay you, but I will try.”

  “Love your woman with all you have, son.”

  That was the easiest thing he'd ever been asked to do. “I will, sir.”

  “If y'all are done with your heart to heart, Tiffany and I can tell you what's going on,” Chris said from behind the wheel. Carter didn't know how long they'd been talking, but he noticed they were no longer in front of Phil's home.

  “We're all ears, Detective,” Camryn replied. “Who drugged me and stuffed me in a trunk?”

  “We can't prove it yet, but it looks like it's Abby Reed,” Tiffany answered.

  Voice shaking, Cam asked, “Is she another Priscilla?” Mason had been drugged and kidnapped not too long ago, Priscilla believing herself to be his true match. If Abby was after him the same way, he didn't know what she’d do.

  “It's possible, but everything seems to be revolving around the club.”

  “That fucking club,” Carter muttered before something struck him. “Has the club been searched? Is there something there that is valuable that would have all these people fighting over it? Why is the legacy of a nightclub such a big deal? Murder? Kidnapping? Something has got to be going on aside from just a nightclub.”

  Chris let out a disgusted sound. “Don't think we haven't thought of that. Of course, we searched that club, but unless there are hidden passageways, there's nothing worth killing or kidnapping for there.”

  “What's this club?” Phil put in from his seat.

  “I inherited a nightclub after a friend's murder,” Camryn answered, a little more matter-of-fact than he expected.

  Carter sighed. “And now it seems her friend was murdered for that club, or maybe because he was a deadbeat dad, and Cam was kidnapped because of that same club.”

&nbs
p; “Sounds like it's a lot more trouble than it's worth,” Phil assessed. “Why not give it to someone else?”

  Cam leaned into Carter. “Well, even if I thought about it before, there's no way I would do that now. If Theo was murdered to get the club, there's no way I'm going to hand it over.” She paused. “Although, if Simon is completely innocent, I might think about giving it to him, provided there were the proper stipulations about Holden.” Her jaw cracked on a yawn before she snuggled further into his embrace. “I'm sleepy.”

  “We're going home, Lark,” Carter whispered into her hair, “and I'm never letting you go.”

  ~*~

  Sloane let out a whoop. “Got her!” He turned to Brandon. “Your Officer Morgan might've helped, but I just found the missing piece.”

  Thankful the Feds had come equipped with a warrant to search Abigail Reed's home, computer, and whatever else they wanted, he asked the burning question. “What'd you find?”

  “Camryn was only a distraction. The real target has always been Bleu.”

  “What's the appeal of this damn club that makes it worth killing for?”

  Sloane's eyes were narrowed at the screen. “It was really well hidden, but she's already lined up a buyer for the building and the land, for nearly two million dollars.” He paused to look at Kavanaugh. “When we couple that with the dummy companies she's been using to buy all the surrounding buildings, she stands to make sixteen million if all the deals go through.”

  “She sold it without owning it?” He knew a lot about the law, but real estate was out of his realm.

  “She bought buildings and land with other people's money, and sold this piece without a scrap of documentation.” He pulled the drawers of the desk open again, rooting around. “This sale is contingent on all the land and buildings going as one block,” Sloane explained. “Since the rest of the land is unoccupied, no one was looking real hard, but the club held her up. If I were guessing, I'd say she went to Theo to try and work a deal, and he refused, so she killed him.”

  Brandon rubbed the back of his neck. “Why would she think he would leave it to her? He'd never acknowledged her as a child, and from what Tiffany said, she wasn't even certain he was her father.”

  “Maybe she thought it'd be easier to work with Simon. There's no question he would sell if given half a chance.”

  “Hold up. Simon is involved in this somehow.” He was sure of it. “You still have someone watching him?” Better than the guy you had on Abby?

  The Feds exchanged a look before Kavanaugh spoke. “She was stealing from the club to force Theo to shut it down, but he didn't. Then, he didn't capitulate when she wanted him to sell, so she killed him. Now, Camryn Everett has the club and instead of wanting to unload it as they expected she wants to not only run it but revamp it.”

  “So, she was kidnapped for ransom. Is there a significance to eight million dollars?”

  “It's half the sale,” Sloane drawled.

  “Abby's half, no doubt. I wonder if Simon is even alive.”

  Kavanaugh stamped her booted foot. “Dammit.”

  “Never underestimate the small, quiet ones.”

  “No shit,” Sloane agreed. Leaving a couple officers at Abby’s house, the three of them headed to Simon's home in Aylesford, wondering just what they'd find when they got there.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chris could feel every muscle in his back and shoulders as he drove away from Berkeley Springs. The hairs on the back of his neck were raised, and while he felt as safe as could be expected in the SUV, he had a sinking feeling that things were about to take a turn for the worse.

  “Calm down,” Tiffany murmured. “You're going to need a massage when we get home if you lock your shoulders like that.”

  “You offering?”

  A blonde eyebrow winged up. “You interested? I'm game if you are.”

  “Nah,” he replied. “Been there, done that.” He gave her what he thought was a cocky smile. “It was fun, though.”

  From her place beside him, Tiffany checked the rearview and nodded, evidently finding no tail. “That it was.” She shot him a satisfied smirk. “You're not as tense now.”

  He wasn't nearly as hunched over as he'd been minutes before. “Huh.” Tiffany was an interesting person, and he almost wished he could be happy with her as anything more than what they were. He didn't know what he wanted, but Tiffany Morgan was one of his best friends, and that what she was meant to be.

  “Fuck!” the object of his musings screeched at the same time a black Chevy truck slammed into her door. The driver of the truck was slumped over the steering wheel, apparently unconscious.

  “Everybody okay?” he asked, focusing on Tiffany and Carter seated on the right side of the vehicle. The SUV was sturdy, but a truck was a truck.

  “My leg is pinned, and I think it's broken,” Tiffany replied, her voice betraying every bit of pain she was trying to hide. “Check on the guy who hit us first. He looks to be worse off.”

  “I'm okay,” Carter answered, followed shortly by matching replies by Camryn and Phil.

  “Stay here,” he instructed. “I'm gonna check on this guy and try to move his truck off us.”

  The truck was an older model, made with a steel frame but no airbag. The windshield had shattered on impact, leaving a gaping hole and adding glass shrapnel to the accident. Chris moved closer, shaking his phone twice to activate the flashlight function and wishing he had more than just a small first aid kit in his SUV. He wondered how long emergency response took in this part of the country, hoping for the driver's sake it wouldn't take longer than he had.

  “Sir?” he questioned as he opened the door. When he didn't receive a response, he moved closer, extending his hand to check the man's pulse, finding it faint but there. He breathed a small sigh of relief. “Call 911,” he yelled out to the group in his vehicle, returning his attention to the slumped man. “Sir?” he called again.

  Phil was at his elbow before he was able to do much else. “Ambulance is on the way. He alive?”

  “Looks like. I haven't moved him.”

  “Accident?”

  He wasn't ruling anything out but the man had nearly killed himself running into them. “Either that, or a very poor attempt at killing us.”

  “Kept you from getting home, though,” he pointed out. “Maybe that was the intention,” he went on, the observation astute and bringing up a question no one had thought to ask.

  “What do you do, Phil?”

  “I'm retired now, but I was an insurance investigator for twenty-five years.”

  Of course, you were. “Any idea how long the ambulance will take? I don't want to move him unless absolutely necessary, but he might not have long.”

  “We're not that backward out here, detective. They'll be here shortly.”

  “He dead?” Tiffany asked through the window.

  Chris shook his head. “Nope. You gonna lose your leg?”

  “Hope not. Can't kick your ass without it,” she joked, and he knew she would be okay. A few minutes later he heard the siren wailing in the distance and relaxed a fraction. Help was coming. When the bus arrived, he and Phil moved to the side to allow the crew to work. Carter and Camryn leaving his SUV and joining him. He was watching as two firefighters extricated Tiffany from the passenger seat of his Explorer when Camryn gasped.

  “What?”

  “It's Simon.”

  As if this situation couldn't get more convoluted. He looked at the gurney as it was being loaded into the ambulance and found what Cam was saying was true. Simon was near death, but why? Was he working with Abby? Was he Camryn's kidnapper? Tiffany was on another gurney, her leg in a splint of sorts. He turned again to Phil. “Now what?”

  “I've already called a friend. He'll be here soon, and we'll go to the hospital. You got questions, and these folks need answers.”

  “You sure you were only an insurance investigator and not a cop?”

  He laughed. “I was an MP when I
was in the service.”

  “I knew it!”

  “That obvious?”

  He studied the other man for a moment. “Camryn couldn't have picked a better door to knock on.”

  “She needed help. Still does,” he said, nodding his head at the couple wrapped in each other a little to their left. “Her man loves her, but he doesn't see what we see. Can't do what we can.”

  “You're right,” he agreed. Carter was a good man, a gifted attorney, and heir to a fortune. “He's a good man.”

  “But he's soft.”

  Again, he couldn't disagree, much as he hated to admit it. Chris had spent years in Chicago, immersed in the drug underworld, seeing horrible evil, doing his share of bad things in order to keep his cover. He'd never be able to atone for all his sins, no matter how many hours he spent volunteering at the hospital. He knew he could kill if necessary, had done it before and would likely have to do it again in the course of his career. He pulled in a breath of crisp air. “We can't all be alpha men,” he said instead of voicing the thoughts running through his head. He didn't know Phil, no matter if it felt he did. He was going on his gut feeling and the fact the man had been willing to help Camryn in the middle of the night. “She's got him, and they've got us watching their backs.”

  “I needed some excitement. Being retired and alone is boring.”

  Holding back a laugh, he told the other man, “I'm not sure this was what you had in mind.”

  “Better than the puzzle I did before bed.”

  He let his laugh break free. “Can't argue.”

  ~*~

  Camryn couldn't believe Simon had crashed a truck she'd never seen into them. She'd heard Phil's idea that Simon was just slowing them down, preventing them from getting home and wondered if it was true. What kind of game was Simon playing, and how did it fit in with her kidnapping and Abby?